The Three Amigos, Oversized Cheese Platters and Other Foolishness

Today’s Video:

Once upon a time, there was a girl with a dream. A dream to write without boundaries, to write without deadlines and (dramatic pause) to write without fear. Could such a place exist? Possibly. Would she look like an ass? Probably. And, most importantly, would anyone (besides her mom) ever even listen? She would, after all, never be speaking of politics, religion, history or anything traditionally considered “important” in this world. Instead, there would be cats-who-sit-like-humans, cow nipple cream, hamsters-covered-in-pizza-sauce and, of course, Alec Baldwin. So, she wrote her first post, gathered up all of her courage and pressed “Publish.”

Then everything went quiet. She sat alone, waiting and hoping. And from the darkness, she saw one tiny light flickering in the distance.

“Hello? Is anyone home?” said the unfamiliar but friendly voice at the door. Awakened from her stupor, the woman shoved the family-sized cheese tray she was eating alone into the dishwasher and threw an old blanket over the sofa that was covered in orange cat hair. “Welcome, welcome!” she cried, thrilled to pieces to have just one listener. She vowed always to revere this special guest as though he were royalty. He was, after all, her very first follower.

Need proof? Here’s a screen capture of her first five followers in reverse chronological order.

* * * * *

How did she repay his blind loyalty? By corrupting his name, an innocent homage to a classic 80s film, and creating many humiliating variants over the course of the past year. Among her favorites were The Great Guaptini, Guap ‘Til You Drop, Guaperella, Count Guapula, Guap ‘n’ Roll High School, Guapzie Guaperelli and, of course, Guap Tarts. And so, in this beloved tradition of name-sullying, she wants to celebrate her first reader’s birthday with a special vote created in his honor. Why? Because El Guapo needs a Christmas moniker and it wouldn’t be a Guap-inspired post without a good poll. That’s where you come in.

Hey! It’s the birthday boy. Have you gotten your automated call yet from Geoffrey the Giraffe? (realizing the stupidity of that comment) That’s ridiculous. You wouldn’t be getting a call from Toys ‘R’ Us. It’s nearly 2013. Surely, they’ve moved up to birthday email or texts by now. Sheesh.